


Easy Money

by carolinecrane



Series: down is where we came from [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a very exciting routine, but it's theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy Money

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 1x18, "Laryngitis".

They've been dating a couple months now, long enough to develop an easy pattern. Kurt goes to school, Puck fucks around on the internet or works on his bike or rehearses with his band, then he meets Kurt at his place and they fuck like it's the first _and_ last time, and Puck goes to work with a smug grin and the knowledge that Kurt's going to have a hell of a time concentrating on his homework.

Sometimes Kurt tags along with him to work, or maybe shows up an hour or so after Puck's shift starts with Brittany in tow, pretending like she dragged him out when they both know he just can't stand to stay away. Whenever they show up Puck just smiles indulgently, leans across the bar for a long, slow kiss, and pours Kurt one of those fancy fucking chick drinks he pretends he doesn't like.

And sometimes, on nights when the tips are great but he's exhausted from running all night, Puck ends his shift and weaves through the crowd to the booth Kurt and Brittany and her pretentious fucking actor friends seem to have claimed as their own. Kurt always makes room for him before Puck even gets there, like he's just waiting for this moment, then he smiles and turns those lips of his up for a chaste kiss and pretends not to scrunch up his nose at the taste of Corona on Puck's mouth.

It's a pretty lame routine, as routines go, but Puck's not complaining. Before Kurt his routine was go to work, go home, maybe pick somebody up at work or some other bar, fuck, then go their separate ways. It wasn't terrible or anything, but it wasn't great, either, and he sure as hell doesn't miss it.

So he's looking forward to getting off work, dropping his apron in the back and popping the cap off a Corona so he can drop into the booth next to Kurt and feel him up under the table while they ignore Brittany and her friends.

Except tonight, when he arrives at the booth back in the corner, Kurt's not watching him cross the room, blushing a little as he slides over, even after all this time, like he's still surprised that Puck would come looking for him. And Puck's pissed, because he really likes that look, until he turns his head in the direction Kurt's looking and sees what's distracting him.

Brittany, of course, only she's not telling one of her moronic fucking stories. Instead she's leaning back against the far corner of the booth, the table pushed out a little ways -- and he fucking _told_ his boss they should bolt them to the floors to cut down on the amount of blow job-related messes they had to clean up after bar time -- grinning like the cat who ate the fucking canary while some girl Puck doesn't recognize grinds on her lap.

It's not like Puck didn't know Brittany swung both ways. He knew that way back in high school, when she was fucking Puck's...he pauses in mid-thought, because 'girlfriend' isn't really the right word, and he's never stopped to think about what label to slap on that part of his past. Whatever, she was fucking Santana at the same time Puck was fucking Santana, and if Puck had known it at the time he would have tried to exploit that particular situation, because it's not like he's ever passed up the opportunity for a threesome.

And Brittany would have gone along with it, he's pretty sure, because she's kind of a slut and she's pretty upfront about it, which is the thing he respects the most about her. Only Puck hadn't known, which makes Santana pretty fucking selfish, because she kept that shit all to herself.

He reaches the booth and taps Kurt on the shoulder, laughing at the vaguely grossed out look Kurt turns in his direction. He should be pissed, because Kurt's too distracted to remember to kiss him. Mostly he just looks like he'd rather set fire to his designer pants than move any closer to the show in the corner, even if it means leaving Puck hanging with a beer in his hand and nowhere to take a load off.

Puck rolls his eyes and drags Kurt bodily out of the booth, then he parks it next to Brittany and her new...whatever and pulls Kurt back down next to him. "Happy, Princess?"

"Not even remotely," Kurt answers, and for a second Puck figures the glare is for the nickname he hates -- and earns on a regular basis -- but then he figures out that Kurt's glaring around him at the show in the corner, and he's a lot more interested than most gay dudes would be.

"Babe," Puck says, leaning in to cut off Kurt's view and force Kurt's attention onto him at the same time, "what's the matter? You want a lap dance too? Because all you have to do is say the word."

Kurt just rolls his eyes, but he's blushing bright enough to light up the fucking room, and Puck knows Kurt's picturing it. He files that information away for later and picks up his beer, taking a long pull before he glances over his shoulder at Brittany again.

"Seriously, what's the problem?" Puck asks, turning back to Kurt.

"Nothing," Kurt lies, and Puck can tell because he's looking down at the table now. "It's just vulgar, behaving that way in public."

It's true that Kurt's not much for PDA, but Puck doesn't really mind. In fact, he kind of likes the tease; it just makes everything hotter when he gets Kurt alone and starts tearing off his clothes. Watching Kurt shift from prim and buttoned up to panting and wrecked and _slutty_ just makes Puck want him even more, and he's pretty sure he's never going to get enough.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," Puck teases, giving Kurt a wink as he picks up his beer again.

"He has tried it."

Brittany's voice penetrates his subconscious while his beer's still halfway to his mouth, and he carefully sets it back down before he turns to look at her. The other chick's still grinding in her lap, but Brittany's ignoring her now in favor of staring wide-eyed at Puck.

"What, a lap dance?" Puck says, frowning because he's having trouble imagining Kurt getting through an entire lap dance without actually bursting into flames from blushing too hard.

"No, girls," Brittany says, rolling her eyes like it's a stupid question, and Puck's sure to her it is, because her brain doesn't work the same way as actual human brains do. He's not even sure how she got from 'vulgar' to 'doing it with a chick' instead of 'doing it in public', but...wait.

Puck's own, ostensibly more or less normal brain stutters to a halt, and now he's staring at Brittany with what has to be as dumb a look on his face as she's got on hers. "What?"

"In high school. He was ruining my perfect score," she says, like that's supposed to make sense. "I'd done it with every other guy in school, it didn't seem right to skip him just because he was kind of a loser. No offense," she adds, glancing around Puck to Kurt, and Puck follows her line of sight to see Kurt glaring fucking _daggers_ at his roommate.

"You had sex with Brittany?"

He's not even sure why it bothers him, because high school was a long time ago, and it's not like _Puck_ didn't have sex with Brittany. But Puck had sex with a lot of people, and just like the bullying, it wasn't really personal. Not that he didn't enjoy it, he just didn't _care_. Whereas Kurt...well, he takes _everything_ personally, and now that Puck's fucked him...yeah, Kurt would take it personally. The idea of him and Brittany...she and Kurt live together, for one thing, and for another, since when does Kurt fuck girls?

"Since when do you fuck girls?" Puck says, out loud this time, because he figures it's a valid question.

"Oh my God," Kurt says, like he seriously can't believe this is the kind of shit that happens to him. Puck knows the feeling.

If it was anybody else he might be kind of turned on right now, already working on how he could use this situation to angle his way into some kinky shit, just for kicks. But it's Kurt, and Puck's known from day one that if he wants to be with Kurt he's going to have to give up...well, not necessarily the kinky shit, but the kinky shit that involves anybody _besides_ Kurt, and he's totally okay with that.

Except he just found out his totally-gay-and-not-even-a-little-bi fashion designing, diva fucking boyfriend is living with a _girl_ he apparently fucked. And he's _still_ staring daggers at her like he's fucking jealous of this other bitch, who, at least, has finally clued in and given it a rest in the lap dance department.

"Oh, for the love of..." Then Kurt's hands are on him, pulling hard and Puck knows he's stronger than he looks, but it still takes him by surprise when Kurt drags him out of the booth. He grips Puck's sleeve and drags him away from the table, back toward the bar and Puck's not looking to see whether or not Mark's watching as he lets Kurt drag him down the hall that leads to the bathrooms.

"I did not _fuck_ her," Kurt says, biting down hard on the word like it's going to leave a bad taste in his mouth. "I...had an existential crisis and I took some bad advice."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I was sixteen and confused, and I did what all confused sixteen-year-olds do. Why are we even having this conversation? It was over four years ago, and besides, you went further with Brittany than I ever did. Was there anyone in high school you _didn't_ sleep with?"

"None of the guys," Puck answers with a shrug. "And Berry. She never put out."

The look on Kurt's face tells Puck that's not really the answer he was looking for, but it's the truth. "Look, don't change the subject. What was so confusing that you forgot you were gay long enough to get it on with Brittany?"

"First of all, we made out. Maybe a little heavy petting. That was it." Kurt shrugs this time, looking down at his shoes. "She offered, and I just wanted to see if I could. You know, with a girl."

"But you couldn't."

"Definitely gay," Kurt answers, and when he looks up at Puck his mouth curves into an embarrassed smile. "In case you hadn't noticed."

Still, Brittany's the only girl Kurt's ever touched, and Puck's not crazy about the idea of them living together. "Yeah, but what if she got you to move here because she's been obsessing over not sealing the deal back in high school? She could go all Single White Female on you. You'd better just move in with me."

Kurt's eyes go wide for a second, then he shakes his head and purses his lips, making that face Puck usually only sees when Kurt catches him chatting on Facebook with Burt.

"We are tabling that discussion for later," he says. "And Brittany is not obsessed with me. In case you hadn't noticed, when you arrived at the table she was being assaulted by that...that... _hussy_ , and she certainly wasn't complaining."

The way his eyes narrow when he brings up the lap dance reminds Puck of how all this started in the first place, and he feels his whole body tense as Kurt stares toward the bar. "So if you're not into girls, why the fuck are you so jealous that some girl's putting the moves on Brittany?"

As soon as he says it Kurt swings his head to look at Puck, like maybe he forgot Puck was standing there. "Oh my God, is that what you think?"

And now he just feels stupid, but he doesn't know why. "What the hell am I supposed to think?" he asks, going for pissed but mostly coming off defensive. "You've been staring at that girl like you're trying to kill her with your brain all night."

"If only," Kurt murmurs, like he's imagining what it would be like to kill that girl with just a look. And Puck's seen some of Kurt's best glares, so he wouldn't put it past him. "But not because of Brittany. I mean, it would be nice if one of my best friends had more discerning taste, certainly, but I gave up that dream ages ago."

Kurt's arms are crossed over his chest so tight he looks like he might break something, but when he looks up at Puck he kind of deflates, sort of leaning into Puck's space and pressing his forehead against Puck's chest to mumble into his shirt.

"It's that girl. She's awful. She's in my Textile and Design class, and I've been forced to work with her for the past week, and of course she's completely useless. All she does is waste time and get in the way, she can't sew to save her life, and of course when we had to present our project, she took credit for my design." He sighs into Puck's chest and straightens up, and Puck has to fight hard not to laugh, because he's working himself into a righteous bitch fit.

Please," Kurt spits out, "that girl couldn't even design a muumuu without a pattern and a Youtube tutorial. She's just using Brittany to get to my designs, and now I'm going to have to deal with her until Brittany gets tired of her."

"I have no idea what you just said," Puck admits, but his hand's on the back of Kurt's neck and Kurt leans into him as he rubs circles at the top of his spine. "So there's no danger of you accidentally banging Brittany or anything?"

"I think I'd notice," Kurt answers, but he's not foaming at the mouth over the chick from his class anymore, so Puck calls it a success.

"Then can we get out of here?"

Kurt smiles at him then, and when Puck sways forward Kurt slides an arm around his neck and kisses him back.

"Define 'heavy petting'," Puck says, arm around Kurt's shoulders to steer him out of the bar before Brittany or her new friend can stop them.

"Take me home and I'll give you a demonstration," Kurt answers, his arm sliding around Puck's waist to push a hand into Puck's back pocket.

"Fine, but we're going to my place. I'm not risking another run-in with Brittany's latest groupie."

"You realize reminding me of where you live is the worst possible way to convince me to cohabitate with you."

Puck grins as he steers Kurt out of the bar, pausing once they're out in the cool night air to pull him close and plant a firm kiss on his lips. "Once I give you that lap dance, you'll come around."


End file.
